Regarding Abe - Again
by foreverHenry919
Summary: One-shot sequel to "Regarding Abe" from 2017. A nagging headache triggers his de-aging to reoccur. Then his old Army buddies, Jerry Charters and Marco Fox, pay him a visit and witness it, prompting Marco to ask Abe some pointed questions about Henry. Inspired by Regarding Abe by foreverHenry919. I do not own "Forever" TV show or any of its characters.


Henry and Lucas go off to a weekend ME seminar in Boston. Lieutenant Reece and Detectives Martinez and Hanson are off. Abe's lady friend, Fawn, is out of town visiting her youngest daughter and newest grandchild. Abe is alone at the shop. Just another weekend ... right?

vvvv

The morning sunlight beamed in through the large display window into Abe's Antiques and washed over Abe Morgan as he stood and watched the street activity outside. He closed his eyes, hoping that the warmth of the sun's rays would soothe the nagging headache he'd had for the past few days and had worsened since waking. He needed a moment. Just a moment. But he was thankful for another day and ...

 _Trr-rring, Trr-rring!_

The shop's bell alerted him to a customer entering the shop. He opened his eyes and turned toward the door, smiling, with an automatic, "Welcome to our shop. I'm Abe. How may I - ? Aw, it's you guys," he said, discarding his friendly customer service voice.

"Would you believe this guy?" his old Army buddy, Jerry Charters, asked as he entered the shop. "We get all scrubbed up to pay him a visit and he gives us grief. As usual." He sauntered in while mock-glaring at Abe.

"What's the matter, Abe, ole buddy?" his other Army buddy, Marco Fox, teased as he closed the shop's door. "Not enough coffee in your morning snake venom?" He and Jerry laughed heartily as Abe smiled, arms crossed, taking in the good-natured ribbing.

"You guys should take that act on the road," he retorted. "Say, what are you two doing here so early in the morning, anyway? Suddenly interested in some real antiques and not that fake stuff from Drury's two blocks up?"

"Drury's delivers," Jerry replied with a shrug, admiring his profile in one of the antique mirrors and patting his fro.

Marco grinned at the way his two close friends usually went at each other, all in good fun.

"We just wanted to come over to see if it's true that you and your kid, Henry, have a fountain of youth in your basement," Jerry continued.

 _'My kid,'_ Abe scornfully thought to himself.

"Yeah," Marco chimed in, still grinning. "If you can spare a cup or two from the fountain, we'd really appreciate it."

Abe looked from one to the other, half-frowning, half-smiling. "Henry's not my kid," he replied plaintively. "And what are you guys talkin' about? Look at this old body," he told them, pressing a spread-fingered hand against his chest.

"Not so old-looking lately, if you ask me," Marco interrupted, playfully poking his elbow into Abe's ribcage.

"These wrinkles and gray hairs," Abe continued.

Marco frowned as he leaned closer to scrutinize Abe's face and hair. He straightened up and declared, "Not as many wrinkles as I recall. And are you coloring your gray hair?"

"Botox. Hair transplant," Jerry concluded, nodding.

"Look, just because you guys don't know what to do with your spare time now that you're both retired, is not my problem," Abe told them, swiping a hand in the air dismissively. "I, on the other hand, have lots to do here in the shop."

Jerry and Marco looked around the shop full of merchandise sans customers. "Yeah. Lots," Jerry nodded in mock agreement. Marco chuckled a bit before clearing his throat, his face taking on a more serious look.

"Okay. Okay. All kidding aside," Marco began, "we, uh, have some legitimate concerns and thought we'd - "

" - thought we'd come and find out for ourselves just what the heck is goin' on with you, Man!" Jerry emphatically finished for Marco.

"Nothing's goin' on with me," Abe protested as he turned and walked away from them. As they passed by a 19th Century vanity, he caught his reflection in its mirror.

 _'Noooo,_ he thought mournfully, _'not againnnn!'_

Jerry and Marco couldn't see him like this, morphing from an elderly man into middle-age and maybe back into his teens? What had brought this on again, anyway? The recent days-long headache? They'd freak out and call the authorities and, and Pop's condition might be in jeopardy of being discovered. He was now in pure panic mode trying to figure out how to get rid of them.

"Look, you guys, I just remembered that I gotta call my Cousin Henry. It's important. He needs this information. So, please let yourselves out and lock the door behind you, okay? Thanks!" He kept his back to them as he jogged toward the stairs and darted up them.

Jerry and Marco stood motionless as they watched Abe quickly depart from them and dart (dart?) up the stairs. Marco was the first to speak.

"Whatever's goin' on has got him totally freaked out. Guess we better split, like he says."

"No way," Jerry said and walked quickly toward the stairs. "When was the last time you recall Abe moving that fast?" Granted, he, himself, wasn't as spry as he used to be, but he could still make it up those stairs without a problem. "Besides, he owes me. I never collected on that debt."

"What debt?" Marco asked as he reluctantly followed Jerry up the stairs.

"In Nam. He stole my girlfriend," he replied as they cleared the top step.

"Who?"

"That Army nurse, Marianne."

"Same Marianne you've been married to - happily - for the past 48 years? Seems to me like you've collected on that debt big time. She's better than you deserve, my friend."

"Shhhh! Yeah," Jerry replied. "But he still gotta pay for buttin' in." He held up a hand to quiet Marco as they walked stealthily down the hallway past one bedroom door and then came to stand in front of the open doorway of what appeared to be Abe's bedroom. He was on the landline phone on his nightstand with his back to them, unaware of their presence. They could hear him pleading with someone at the other end to come home. That _it_ had started again. He nodded his head and hung up the phone. Even from behind, they could tell by both his voice and his posture that he was very upset; but his geriatric slump from only a few moments earlier was all but gone. He visibly tensed when he felt their presence behind him.

"What are you two still doing here? Thought I told you to leave?!" Although angered, his voice was now too clear and high-pitched to sound authoritative enough. He realized it and cleared his throat before he spoke again, lowering and deepening his voice. "Just leave, okay, guys?" he quietly pleaded.

His two friends now stood on either side of him and leaned forward to get a better view of him. They were astonished to see their friend and former war buddy wearing the face they hadn't seen since the early 1970s!

vvvv

"You mean all of this from a bump on the head?" Jerry asked, astonished.

"A little more than that," Abe countered, defensively. "The infection of my pituitary gland along with the mix of pain medication and antibiotics must have caused an abnormal spike in the production of HGH (human growth hormones)."

"Hmmm, so why didn't you just get bigger instead of ... younger ... looking?" Marco stammered.

"Like I know!" Abe yelled in reply and shot up from where he'd been sitting on the bed and stomped toward the door and back. "I'm not a doctor! I'm not a scientist!"

"Okay, okay. Try to calm down," Jerry urged him. Marco gently guided him back over to the bed and Abe sat down again.

"Can't calm down," Abe whimpered. "Look at me! Fawn and I are supposed to get married in a couple of weeks. How can I show up for the wedding rehearsal or any part of our life looking like this? I definitely can't let her see me like this. She won't want me anymore."

His two friends studied him for a few moments. Then Marco quietly told him, "We're just your friends, Abe, and we still want you." He paused and added, "I mean, not to hug and kiss." Abe gave him a side-eyed glare while Jerry choked back his laughter.

"But if Fawn truly loves you, and I believe she does, she'll still want you. Just tell her." Jerry nodded in agreement.

Abe lowered his head and laughed at the irony of this conversation. His friends urging him to share his 'condition' with the woman he loves. How many times had he urged his father to tell Jo about his own condition of immortality? He waved off their concerned looks, knowing they were thinking that the stress was getting to him and threatening his sanity. Of course, he couldn't share his thoughts with them about Dad.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," he assured them and grew quiet. "Guess you're right." He looked from one to the other and said, "Gonna need you guys to be my wingmen."

"Yeah," Jerry agreed, thoughtfully. "Definitely gonna need two for this."

"Maybe a whole squadron," Marco added, eyebrows raised and eyes bugged.

vvvv

It was now late afternoon and Jerry remembered that he'd promised to pick his sister up from the podiatrist after her appointment. "Ohhh, I gotta go, guys," he said, rising up from his chair. He explained to them the reason for his having to leave and patted Abe on the shoulder. "Take it easy, Man. I'll be back as soon as I get Sherree squared away." He asked Marco if he was coming, too, but Marco declined.

"Kinda got a feeling it's not good to leave our young friend alone right now," he said in a half-teasing but very concerned manner. Abe remained silent, giving them both a weak but grateful smile. Jerry departed and Marco and Abe sat in silence for a few moments longer.

"Was that Henry you were talking to earlier on the phone?" Marco finally asked.

"Uh, yeah," Abe replied. "How'd you know?"

"Just a hunch," he said. "Abe ... Jerry thinks that Henry's your kid but ... he's not, is he?"

Marco's question made Abe feel uneasy. These types of questions always did. He had to dredge up a lie to steer his old friend away from the truth. Another lie. Abe swallowed and replied, "No. No, he's not my kid." That was actually the truth but he didn't dare reveal anything further about their relationship. But then he perked up recalling the cousin connection he'd uncovered for them while putting his family tree together.

"He's actually my, uh, cousin. Distantly related but still ... my cousin. And he's a dear friend, as well." He hoped that would satisfy Marco's curiosity and shelve any other questions about Henry. It didn't.

"How long have you actually known him?" Marco asked, frowning and slightly skeptical.

"Um, well," Abe replied with an uneasy chuckle because of the lies about to drop from his tongue. "He came to America after his father, who was my business partner, died. He's basically lived with me ever since."

"Since when?" Marco pressed.

"Oh, that was 2002," Abe replied, quickly calculating the math in his head to arrive at the most plausible year. In a greater effort to deflect attention away from Henry, he asked, "Why all this sudden interest in him? I'm the one with the problem right now," he reminded Marco, pointing to himself.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. Sorry," Marco apologized, shaking his head. "Did he agree to come back?"

Abe nodded. "He won't arrive til late tonight. First, he's gotta hire a car and it's nearly a three-hour drive."

Marco quietly studied Abe before asking, "And it's not just because he's your friend and a doctor, is it?"

"Marco, wha - what other reasons could there be?" Abe asked with a quick, jerky shrug.

"Oh, I don't know," Marco replied, smugly. "Maybe it's because it's always more comforting to have a parent around when you're in trouble." Abe frowned and squinted as he began to protest.

"Before you say anything," Marco warned him, "I remember him being there when we boarded the bus that took us to the Army base. Got a real good look at him once we'd boarded and sat down. I noticed that he looked noticeably younger than the woman he was standing next to even though they acted like they were a couple. You know, romantic-like. When you said they were your parents, it kinda surprised me. She was pretty but I still wondered why a guy would - no offense - be interested in an older woman." Marco shoved his hands into his pants pockets and shrugged. "I was young," he added in an effort to explain his unsophisticated view of the world at the time.

"Actually," he continued, "he looked like he was playing dress-up; trying to look older than what he was in order to match her. But it didn't look like it was working."

No, Abe ruefully recalled. It hadn't worked and the situation had only worsened the more Mom had visibly aged and Dad had retained his youthful appearance. "Marco, I don't know where you got the idea that Henry could possibly be my father," Abe told him. "The guy's only 35 years old."

"Well, I can't help that," Marco replied, pulling his hands out of his pockets. "Because he looked about 35 back then and that was nearly 65 years ago! And I'd like a nickel for every time you pulled that picture of them out of your pocket and gazed at it. You said it was their military pictures from WWII. Now, your mother looked younger but your father ... he looked 35 even then," he half-whispered, half-hissed as if he were unraveling an ages-old secret behind a magic trick. While he spoke, he'd leaned forward and gestured every now and then. He then sat and just gawked silently at Abe.

"Hmphf. Figured all that out by yourself, did you?" Abe murmured. Dang! What had ever possessed him to acknowledge that Henry was his father that day they'd boarded the bus for the Army base? And why hadn't he been more careful about flashing that photograph of them around while he was in Nam? What made him think that eventually one or more of his friends wouldn't figure things out about him and Dad? He sighed, defeated, as he took in Marco's expression of expectancy. And double Dang! Why had he panicked earlier like a little kid and called Henry, dragging him away from his seminar? Now he was on his way back to ... not a trap, exactly, but most definitely to the type of unexpected scrutiny he, they, always worked hard to avoid.

"Does what's happening to you have any connection to what's going on with him? Did the same thing happen to him that's happening to you and he got stuck? Abe, what's the story?" Marco begged.

A long one, he laughingly told himself. And one that only Henry could tell.

"Abe, you don't have to worry about anything leaving this room. If it weren't for Henry's efforts," Marco somberly reminded Abe, "my son's death may have remained on the books as an accidental drowning. For what he did during the investigation to uncover the true facts and bring his murderer to justice, I will be grateful to him forever."

Forever. Hmmm. Abe viewed him uncertainly. First Jo, now Marco figuring things out about Henry. All because of him panicking and Henry worrying over this crazy age fluctuation thing of his. Could he really trust Marco with Dad's secret? And what about Jerry, who might also return later on that evening?

"I need a drink," he told Marco. He rose up from the bed and stopped dead in his tracks when he caught the reflection of his 17-year-old self in the full-length mirror in the corner.

"Sorry, Abe," Marco told him, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I don't think you're old enough."

vvvv

"This is so not right," Marco lamented, shaking his head.

"You're tellin' me?" Abe replied, pouring both of them another shot of scotch. "Last time this happened, my doctor kept me in the hospital a few days longer than usual and experimented on me. After that, I was forced to hide out here for more than a week until it wore off."

"Sorry," Marco replied. "But I meant that, technically, you're a minor now, and as a responsible adult, I shouldn't be just sitting here letting you guzzle that stuff down. Why, if anyone found out, I could be brought up on charges. Wouldn't matter that you're really an old fart like me and Jerry. You look like an underage drinker."

"First of all, I do not guzzle. But don't stop," Abe deadpanned. "Remind me some more about the crazy kind of thoughts that bang around in that fat head of yours sometimes." Downing the last of his fourth ... fifth? ... drink, he added, "This body has been consuming potent potables for more than 50 years without any problems," he slurred before a loud burp escaped from him.

Slightly alarmed, Marco decided not to drink what would have been his third drink and rose to his feet. He grabbed the half-empty bottle of scotch away from Abe's reach and hurried out of the bedroom into the kitchen with it and their glasses amidst his protests. While pouring the contents of his glass down the drain, the sound of the shop's bell tinkling downstairs reached his ears. Since the door had been locked nearly all day with the closed sign displayed, he knew it had to be someone with a key who'd just entered: Henry. The glasses were quickly washed out and placed back in the cupboard and the bottle of scotch back in the top cupboard as Henry's hurried footfalls reached the stairs and grew closer.

"Abe!" Henry called out as he cleared the landing much sooner than Marco had expected. Spotting Marco out of the corner of his eye, he came to an abrupt stop. "Oh, uh, hello. Marco, isn't it?" Henry nervously asked. Marco mutely nodded.

"Abe called me; said that he was having ... some sort of trouble," Henry said, not exactly sure of how to generically word Abe's 'trouble'. "Is he in his room?"

"Yeah, b-but ... before you go in," Marco said, stopping Henry before he could hurry down the hall, "there's something you need to know."

vvvv

"How long has he been like that?" Henry whispered to Marco as they stood and watched a slumbering, teenage-looking Abe.

"He was still awake when you arrived," Marco whispered back. "So, 20-25 minutes asleep but most of the day looking like that."

Henry recalled how he had done exactly what he was doing now only a few months ago but with Jo instead of Marco. He walked slowly over to his sleeping son and reached down to brush his hair off of his brow. His touch was so tender and caring with all the concern of a loving parent that it brought up sweet but painful memories for Marco about his own son, Jason, a recent murder victim. Marco quietly left the room, not wanting to intrude his emotions upon their father-son moment.

Henry soon joined him at the kitchen table, eyeing him closely as he sat down. "Thank you for staying with him, Marco. The last time this happened to him, he was quite unnerved by it." He chuckled and added, "We both were." Looking at Marco again, he said, "I'm glad he was with friends this time."

"Abe's my buddy," Marco replied, smiling. A pained smile, for memories of his son, Jason, still played over in his mind. "Besides, it was the least I could do because of the way you looked after _my_ son by helping to bring his killer to justice."

It was the way that he'd emphasized the word "my" in that sentence that told Henry more was going on here than just Marco finding out about Abe's perplexing malady. What else had he found out? What, if anything, had Abe inadvertently shared with him? Not for a moment did he doubt Abe's loyalty and commitment to keeping his secret but in his inebriated state, Henry could only imagine what secrets may have shaken loose from him. The smell of scotch had hit him midway up the stairs but he hadn't brought it up. Yet.

"Your son. Jason," Henry acknowledged. "I never met him but I'm sure he was a fine young man," he said with all sincerity.

Marco nodded, studying the wood grain's pattern on the table top. Although many questions burned at him, begging to be answered about Abe's mysterious friend sitting in front of him and who was most likely his father, Marco chose not to ask them. Realizing that the two men already had enough supernatural stuff to deal with, he felt it was best not to bombard the visibly-worried father with questions. Father. Wow. It was hard to believe but at the same time, he felt a common bond with this enigmatic man. He could see the concern for Abe in the man's eyes and knew that it sprang unmistakably from fatherly love. No matter the man's appearance of being several decades their junior, he was convinced that Henry had walked this earth for many decades longer, maybe even centuries. Marco stood up and so did Henry.

"Think it's time I left," Marco quietly informed him. He and Henry now stood facing each other. Neither man was willing to voice the unspoken bond between them but they both realized that it had begun to form years ago when Marco and Abe had first met as young Army recruits at the bus top and become fast friends. Henry had greatly appreciated Abe's letters informing him and Abigail that Marco was "looking out" for him during their time in Vietnam. It was the gratitude a parent held for a trusted friend of their child. More recently, the dynamics had changed in that another layer had been added. That of knowing what it was to be a concerned and protective father during the hunt for young Jason Fox's killer.

"Call me if you or Abe need help with anything," Marco told Henry, extending his hand. The grateful Immortal smiled, grabbing his hand with both of his, and thanking him while they shook hands. As Marco turned to leave, they heard Abe call out for his "Pops".

Surprised, Henry gulped, his smile melting away, and unsure if he should try to explain it away as a dream that Abe might be having. His smile returned, though, at Marco's calming advice.

"Milk and cookies always worked with _my_ son, Henry."

NOTES:

Slight reference to "Forever" TV show S01/E12 episode "The Wolves of Deep Brooklyn"

Don't worry. Abe gets back to his "old" self in time to marry Fawn. Jerry eventually finds out the truth about Abe's occasional age-regressing condition and that Henry is his unaging Dad. Fawn, Jerry, and Marco all loyally keep their secrets. That's what friends are for.


End file.
